


The One That I Want

by Redamber79



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Claiming Bites, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hunter Dean Winchester, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, POV Dean Winchester, Wing Kink, Wing Oil, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redamber79/pseuds/Redamber79
Summary: PROMPT: At a diner in the middle of nowhere Sam and Dean see this sign hastily taped to the A/C thermostat.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 36
Kudos: 455





	The One That I Want

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to nickelkeep and Banshee for beta-ing for me!

Monster hunting was never safe. Even the standard salt and burns could surprise you sometimes, which was why Sam was popping Tylenol like candy and wincing as his stitches pulled every time he moved, and Dean was nursing a sprained wrist. They were sitting in a bar in the middle of nowhere, not far from the even more obscure section of nowhere that held the cemetery they'd just defiled. Bones having been salted and burned, now it was time for a recharge before they moved on to the next case - after making sure the ghost wasn't a problem anymore, anyway. Dean was awkwardly lifting his beer to his lips, grumbling about having to listen to Sam's insistence that he drive.

"Seriously, man, you're in pain, I'll manage. Not like I need both hands to steer anyway." Sam just shook his head with a grumble, his hand going to his side where the ghost had flung a chair at him. Dean pounced on the sign of weakness. "Besides, you've got those ribs. You need to rest. And that near fifth of whiskey..."

"My ribs are fine, they're bruised, not broken, Dean. I can drive. Besides, I'd rather someone with two functioning hands be the one behind the wheel." His voice dropped to a whisper, and Dean had to lean in to hear it. "Besides, you're close to your heat, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Bitch," Dean muttered, dropping the argument for now. He still had the keys anyway. Just because he was an Omega didn't mean he couldn't drive Baby.

"Jerk."

Glancing around, Dean's eyes lit on the ancient, rattling air conditioner. A small handwritten note was taped to the machine. Reading it absently, he felt a grin stretching his lips. 

**Don't touch yourself, ask the staff. Thank you.**

He smirked at the phrasing and turned to Sam with a mischievous feeling filling his bones. Sam's nostrils twitched at the change in his scent, and he followed Dean's gaze back to the sign. He rolled his eyes, already pursing his lips in a classic bitch-face number twelve, his Beta scent so familiar that Dean could even smell his disapproval.

Their waitress appeared at their table to take their order, and Sam kicked Dean under the table even as he opened his mouth. Rolling his eyes, he subsided for the moment, ordering a bacon cheeseburger and fries to accompany his beer. Sam went with a Greek salad with grilled chicken. Dean shook his head.

"How are we even related?" he teased the moose, only to get a glare in return. 

"It wouldn't kill you to eat a salad, you know," Sam muttered, a familiar argument. Almost by rote, Dean answered.

"Probably not. But why risk it?" He took another swig of his beer, and they quietly discussed the young woman who'd been haunted by the ghost in her apartment for a few weeks now. They couched it in pest-control terms in the busy bar, well-used to passing themselves off as normal around other people. Their meals arrived, and Dean stuffed a handful of piping hot fries into his mouth. He sucked in air to relieve the burning, but he didn't slow down. Digging up a corpse was hungry work, even before the damn ghost appeared to defend her grave and tossed them into a nearby headstone. Only Sam's quick action of lighting the bones they'd salted had saved them.

Dean was getting too old for this shit. He ached.

They'd cleaned up at the motel, binding Sam's ribs and Dean's wrist, and Dean had done the painstaking work of stitching up Sam's gash on his forehead. Hard work with only one working hand. Glancing at his brother again, he shook his head. No way he was letting Sammy drive back to the bunker when he probably had a concussion. Not to mention the whiskey he'd downed to make the stitching bearable.

Dean's fries disappeared quickly, and he moved on to the burger when Sam's phone rang. He glanced at it quickly.

"It's Sarah. I'm gonna head outside," Sam announced, but there was a blush on his cheeks and a faint spring in his step that made Dean grin.

"Go get her, tiger."

"Jerk," Sam muttered, even as he walked away. "Sarah, hi!"

"Bitch," Dean mumbled around his beer, then flagged the waitress for another. With Sam out of sight and chasing tail, Dean didn't hold back on the charm as he winked at the waitress. "Like the sign," he said, jerking his thumb toward the air conditioner, then winced as his wrist protested. The waitress glanced over at the sign then back to him, offering a small smile, then nodding her chin over his shoulder. 

"I don't think you need  _ my _ help," she teased, and Dean turned his head, nearly spitting out his beer as he realised Cas had appeared out of nowhere in the booth next to him.

Again.

Now that he wasn't directing a flirtatious smile at the waitress, he could feel the line of warmth from the angel's thigh against his own and felt his cheeks flushing as Cas turned his brilliant blue eyes to him. Bluer than usual. Maybe it was just the lighting.

"Hello, Dean." The low voice sent a shiver down Dean's spine, and his lips twitched in a small smile even as his heart thumped oddly in his chest. He should really have that looked at. Or maybe not. Cas reached over and laid a gentle touch on his wrist, and Dean felt the ache vanish instantly. He rolled his wrist cautiously and grinned as it didn't produce even a twinge of pain. He was right-handed, having his hand back in full working order would be useful once he had some alone time, with his heat coming up fast. He quickly buried that thought before it could affect his scent, clearing his throat and pitching his voice for his friend's ears alone.

"Hey, Cas," he greeted the angel softly, his eyes flicking to his lips out of force of habit. Tearing his eyes away, he found himself licking his own lips and fought the blush he could feel climbing his cheeks.

The waitress coughed lightly, getting their attention, and Dean found she was smirking at them with a knowing grin. "Didja need anything, handsome?" she asked, her eyes on Cas, and Dean felt his spine straighten. Was she really flirting with his--no,  _ the _ angel?

"Just a coffee, please."

The waitress wandered off and Cas tossed a glance over to the air conditioner. Clearly picking up the thread of the conversation, he frowned slightly. 

"I can adjust the dial if you wish, Dean, but it does say to ask staff." Cas started to shift in his seat, as though he would ask Dean to move, and Dean couldn't bite back the chuckle.

"We have got to work on your game, man. Read what it says again."

"My game?" Cas turned innocent blue eyes on Dean, wide and guileless, and Dean swallowed harshly. Was Cas closer than before? Those blue eyes flicked down to his lips, then his throat, and Dean held his breath for a moment. Cas met his eyes again, and Dean was suddenly drowning in blue. "What game are we playing?"

Dean turned away to take a swallow of the new beer, the crisp, cold bubbles soothing his parched throat. Was it hot in here? It felt hot in here. Damn air conditioner wasn't working at all.

Cas' voice was suddenly low and husky in his ear, though the angel was simply leaning closer to read the note. "Ah, a sexual innuendo or double entendre. I see it now." Dean felt his arms break out in goosebumps at the murmur against his ear, Cas' breath hot against his skin. Cas glanced at the waitress' back and shifted away. Dean found himself shivering slightly in the absence of the heat radiating from his friend. Why was it so cold in here? Fucking A/C was on too high. "Did you want me to leave? Am I… interrupting your "game"?" he asked, and Dean had to grin at the finger quotes.

"Nah, was just having fun." He glanced up and saw Sam coming back into the bar. He was rubbing at the bandaid on his head and grimacing, and Cas followed his gaze. There was a familiar tingle of energy across his skin, one that made Dean shift awkwardly in his seat and bite back a whimper as he felt a trace of slick; then Sam's hand dropped from his head as he looked up at the table. Dean noticed the faint bruising around his brother's bandaid was gone and made a mental note to remove the now unnecessary stitches later on. Grinning, Sam walked over.

"Hey, Cas. So, Sarah was saying she's still nervous about the, uh, pest problem. I'm gonna go and check on her, make sure we got rid of everything." Dean grinned at the blatant excuse and raised his beer bottle. 

"That's my boy, Sammy, have fun!"

Sam gave him another bitch-face that Dean mostly ignored, and dropped a twenty on the table. He gave them a wave and headed out, his long legs carrying him out of the bar quickly. 

"It's kind of Sam to check on her," Cas commented drily, and Dean snorted into his beer. Taking another drink, he glanced sideways at the angel, wondering yet again if he was for real, or just fucking with the human.

Cas' coffee arrived, and he stirred a couple creamers into the steaming mug. Running his tongue over the spoon, Cas set it on Sam's abandoned plate and took a slow sip. Dean felt his pulse jump at the sight of that pink tongue sliding over the metal and glanced away, trying to ignore the twitch in his jeans as Cas let out a soft sigh of pleasure. 

_ Nope, nope, no. Not perving on my best friend, the wavelength of celestial intent dressed as a sexy tax accountant. _

Cas shifted on the bench next to him, and that scorching heat lined up against Dean's thigh again. 

"What's got you so twitchy?" Dean asked, and Cas glanced away, then back. 

"I don't know what you mean," Cas evaded, even as he tugged at his collar. Dean watched with his mouth dry as Cas loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. The flash of tanned skin caught his eyes, and he stared as a drop of sweat rolled down Cas' neck and over the hollow of his throat. Dean fought back the urge to collect that droplet with his tongue.

"Dude, you okay?” Dean asked hoarsely. He shook his head, trying to clear the growing fog of arousal as he felt his temperature spike in response. “You're… sweating. Let's get you out of here."

"No, Dean, I should go." Dean turned to face Cas in the booth and reached for him without thinking, checking his temperature with the back of his hand. 

"You're burning up, what the hell?" Dean demanded, his Omega panicking at the thought that something was wrong with his friend. "I'm gonna go pay, and then we're going back to the motel. Sammy won't be back. You can take his bed."

Dean shifted to get up, and Cas let out a low, dangerous growl. Dean froze. Cas cleared his throat and looked down at his coffee, the tips of his ears gone adorably pink.

"Sorry, Dean, I'm not myself… I should go," he repeated, and Dean set himself to out-stubborn the angel. Smirking, he let himself sag against the angel's shoulder a little, as though exhausted.

"If you have to go, I get it. More heaven business? I should get back before my heat hits, though… it's close." Why had he said  _ that? _ Cas tended to avoid him at those times, why did he bring it up now? Charging forward despite himself, he stood, deliberately swaying. "And with Sam busy and not around to guard my door, I better get outta here fast."

Cas flicked his gaze up to meet Dean's, and Dean was caught, the tension between them building until he felt like he might burst. Finally, the angel gave a sharp nod and glanced away, but as Dean stumbled off to the bar to pay, he discovered he had another problem, much to his embarrassment. Slick was dampening his boxer briefs, the scent unmistakable around him, and he avoided the hungry glance of an Alpha playing pool as he waited for the waitress to ring him out. 

"Omega slut, looking for a good time?" Dean heard at his back and rolled his eyes. He debated ignoring the fool Alpha who thought he'd be an easy lay, his nose wrinkling at the mix of stale beer and rabid arousal emanating from the drunk. A hand grabbing his ass roughly put an end to the ignore option though, and he whirled with a fist raised, ready to pound the guy senseless and not in the sexy way. 

Spinning on the ball of his foot, he found Cas already there, grabbing the Alpha by the wrist and twisting sharply, the snap of bone clear even in the noise of the bar. The Alpha howled and kicked out at the angel, who caught his foot and neatly tossed him to the ground. That was when Dean saw it - the red flash in Cas' eyes as he stood over the Alpha. 

Cas had never had a scent Dean could pick up, never demonstrated any secondary traits, and Sam and Dean had both assumed that angels didn't have a secondary gender. But as Cas suddenly crowded against him, burying his nose against Dean's throat, Dean realised very quickly that his friend was not only all Alpha, but about to go into rut. 

There was an angry growl from another Alpha, one helping the drunk to his feet, and Cas moved to put Dean behind him. The three Alphas faced off, one cradling his wrist, but the other glaring at Cas and Dean, ready to fight. Cas' shoulders bunched under his trench coat, and Dean found himself breathless at the sudden wave of possessive pheromones oozing from the angel's every pore. Without a word, Cas was claiming him! Before Cas could do something like smite the idiots in public, Dean grabbed Cas's wrist and pulled him into his arms. 

He hesitated only a moment, and then his mouth found the angel's, his tongue delving past lips that parted on a gasp. Dean kissed Cas desperately, knowing if he never got another chance at those lips, he wanted to make this one memorable. Finally, the kiss broke with another gasp from Cas' lips, and Dean turned to glare at the other two Alphas. 

"Fuck off, or I let him kick your asses," he warned, and the two staggered from the bar, presumably to find some clinic to take care of the asshole's broken wrist.

Their waitress arrived with the cheque and gave a chuckle. "Those two have always been trouble, nice to see them put in their place."

Dean grinned at her, still holding onto Cas as he fumbled for his wallet. He pulled out some cash, thrust it at the waitress, and then pulled Cas out of the bar and towards Baby. Pinning the willing angel against the passenger door, Dean leaned in and rubbed his jaw along Cas' throat, scent-marking him. Cas eyes flared red again, and he growled low in his chest. 

Dean went wet, slick with desire at the sound, and rather than fight the wanton feeling, he sank into it, fisting his hands in Cas' coat and nuzzling at his scent-gland. Cloves and cinnamon and orange, warm and welcoming and refreshing, something that was pulling Dean in until he was swimming in the angel's scent. And underneath it all, the rich, dark aroma of molasses.

Cas groaned as Dean lipped at his throat, his hands resting on Dean's hips, fingers flexing unconsciously. "Dean." His voice was deep and husky, lighting a fire in Dean's belly. 

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean breathed against his skin, watching as a bead of sweat trickled down his angel's neck. Unable to resist, he flicked out his tongue and tasted his skin, moaning softly at the salt-musk bursting over his tongue. 

_ "Dean!"  _ Cas' tone was a warning now, but one Dean didn't care to heed. His mouth closed over the skin, and he sucked softly even as his hands roamed. One hand slid over Cas' skin and up his neck until it rested in Cas' dark hair, so soft and thick that Dean couldn't resist tugging a little. The other hand found its way to the small of Cas' back. Cas moaned under his touch, arching against him, and Dean was presented with the clear sign of the angel's arousal pressing against his groin. He shuddered hard, his fingers tightening, and he pulled Cas closer. Cas growled out his name a second time, a feral edge to his tone that had an echo of his angelic voice, ringing in Dean's ears.

Dean mouthed his way along Cas' jaw, seeking his lips again, and this time Cas took control. Spinning them quickly, he pinned Dean to Baby's side and ground against him, kissing him senseless, then working down his jaw to bite none-to-gently at his throat. Dean's head went back as he cried out, exposing his throat further. 

"Mine!" the angel growled. His teeth marked Dean's throat, and he pulled back to stare in obvious satisfaction.

"You claiming me, angel?" Dean murmured, his voice gone husky with want. Oh, how he  _ wanted.  _ He leaned back against the solid steel of Baby's frame, staring at the Alpha before him from under hooded lashes. "You want me to be your Omega?"

Cas growled again, his eyes gone entirely red with arousal, and Dean wondered how he'd ever missed the signs in his friend. Warmth rushed through his veins, and he shuddered as the familiar feeling of slick spilled from his hole.

"Careful, Dean," Cas cautioned, leaning in and nuzzling gently at his throat now that he had an obvious claim on him. "I don't want to hurt you."

"So don't," Dean told him softly, his hands sliding around the angel's broad frame and pulling him tightly against him. "But I'm going into heat, and I don't think my toys are gonna cut it," he teased, deliberately goading Cas. "I need a knot, a real one, or I'm gonna lose my mind. I mean, if you're not up for it, I can head back into the bar…"

The growl that Cas let loose was unlike anything Dean had ever heard, and his knees went weak in a blend of fear and arousal as he remembered what he was dealing with. An angel, soldier of God. He remembered the ass-kicking Cas had given him years ago when they'd first been getting acquainted. Back when Cas had wanted him to bend to Michael's will. Before Purgatory. Before… everything. A clap of thunder rolled through the parking lot, and Dean's eyes widened nervously. 

"Cas, no offense, but the light show is a little obvious…" He swallowed harshly as Cas' gaze fell heavily on him, and the buzz of Cas' grace tingled over his skin.  _ Obvious,  _ he thought to himself,  _ and hot! _

Cas' hand slid to his shoulder, and Dean positively whined at the pulse of grace that fired through his veins. He felt himself harden in response to the angel's touch, and Cas smirked, giving him a knowing, satisfied look. The smug look on his face was surprisingly sexy, as though Cas needed help getting Dean worked up. 

"Dean, do you consent to this?" Cas asked suddenly, grinding against him, pulling a moan from his lips. "You'll be mine, only mine."

"Wanted you for years, Cas," he admitted, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment at the admission. 

"That's not a yes. I need you to say it, Dean," Cas admonished him, his grip tightening a fraction on his arm, a reminder of the mark he'd carried there after being brought back from Hell.

Dean rolled his eyes. Angels. He looked around the parking lot, and while not deserted, it wasn't crowded with people either. Their waitress stood near the door with a cigarette and a smirk on her lips, clearly enjoying the show. 

"We have an audience, man. We should take this back to the motel."

Cas smiled again, a dark, desperate smile as his canines sharpened. Dean tilted his head back in silent offering, and Cas groaned, stepping back.

"Say yes, Dean. I can't… I can't be alone with you right now if you don't say you want this."

Dean grabbed Cas' hand and slid it down his body to his groin, grinding against his palm. "Yeah, sweetheart, I want you. I'm yours, angel. Cursed or not, I'd rather have you, I told you that."

There was a sudden flap of wings and a swooping sensation, then Cas was steadying him in an unfamiliar room. It looked like a stonework cabin, and though they'd been standing in the dark of the shady side of midnight, wherever Cas had flown them was showing the pale light of dawn. Faint sunlight filtered through gauzy, cotton curtains, and there was the sound of waves crashing on a beach.

Cas pulled him into his arms again, and suddenly the angel's mouth was capturing his, his tongue thrusting past his lips in an erotic dance. His hands were everywhere, shoving Dean's Henley up and off his body, tossing the shirt aside. Dean shoved Cas' trenchcoat off his shoulders, only to have it bind on Cas' arms when he refused to drop them from Dean's body. There was a low growl that reverberated down Dean's spine, and Dean moaned against Cas' lips. Pulling back for a moment, he gasped his name, his head going back in bliss.

"Cas! Oh shit… you feel so good, angel! Let me touch you!" 

His fingers slid under the ever-present jacket, pushing it off as Cas dropped his arms for a moment to let it fall, and the trenchcoat hit the floor with a soft whump of fabric. Dean's fingers busied themselves with the buttons of Cas' dress shirt, and he was practically salivating as more and more golden skin was revealed. Cas was sweating freely now, his skin damp and hot to the touch, even with Dean's own temperature climbing. His jeans clung to him uncomfortably, and he dropped his hands from Cas' shirt to frantically undo his fly. Tearing his belt loose and tossing it aside, he flicked open his button and unzipped his fly, hissing softly as his cock twitched in relief. Cas' hands joined him, pushing the denim down over his hips, then shoving it down his legs. 

Cas groaned at the sight of him and dropped to his knees in front of Dean. Wrapping large hands around Dean's thighs, Cas pulled him close and nuzzled at Dean's cock through the thin cotton of his boxer briefs. Dean felt another spurt of slick escape him and watched as Cas tensed at his feet, an audible sniff making him feel self-conscious. There was a flurry of wing beats, then Cas had him against the bed, the quilt a confection of white lace and cream coloured cotton. Jeans tangled over his boots, and he stumbled, only to have Cas catch him. 

The Alpha spun him to face the bed, then nudged him over. Losing his balance again, Dean caught himself on his forearms on the soft surface, then gasped as Cas buried his face between his cheeks, mouthing at the cotton. Dean whined low in his throat, squirming at the heat of Cas' mouth.

"Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed, his hands fisting in the pale quilt, then crying out as a large hand cupped his cock, sliding down to fondle his balls. “You learn that from the Pizza Man, sweetheart?” he teased, only to moan as Cas drew his underwear down his legs, freeing his dripping cock. Dean slid one hand down between his legs and cried out in shock as he felt Cas’ grace capture his wrists and pull his arms spread-eagle on the bed. He froze. “Cas…?”

“The sign said not to touch, ask someone else. So ask me. Beg.” Cas growled the order.

Dean whimpered under his breath, struggling to move his arms. Not an inch. He cast a pleading look over his shoulder, wetting his lips. “Please, Cas, sweetheart,  _ touch me!” _

“You beg so sweetly, Dean. Who knew you could be so submissive, so pliant and sweet for me?” Cas murmured against his skin, and Dean shivered, feeling his slick dripping down his inner thighs. There was a soft groan, then Cas’ broad hands pushed his legs apart, exposing him. He felt his face heat with embarrassed arousal, then Cas was sliding his fingers through the slick on his thighs. Dean turned to watch as his lover brought his fingers to his mouth. Cas’ cerulean eyes flicked to his as he tongued between his fingers, and Dean let out a soft gasp at the erotic gesture. At some point, Cas had rolled up his sleeves, exposing tanned forearms, corded with muscle. Dean’s mouth watered at the sight, and Cas gave him a heavy, smug look.

“Fuck me. You’re gorgeous, Cas.” The words escaped Dean in a rush, and he blushed, knowing the literal angel would comment on his phrasing.

“Was that a statement, or a request, Omega-mine?” Cas purred against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, flicking out his tongue to taste Dean’s slick. Dean moaned at the touch, his skin prickling for a moment before he broke into a sweat. His heat was well and truly upon him, and Cas groaned against his skin. “You taste so good, Dean, I swear it’s better than anything I could imagine.”

Dean huffed a breathless laugh and deliberately rolled his hips in front of Cas’ face, hoping to tempt the angel closer to more sensitive parts. “Not just molecules?”

“You taste like Heaven, like flying feels. Like riding the currents of a hurricane,” Cas told him, and Dean blushed. 

“A hurricane?” he repeated, soft laughter in his voice at the thought. Maybe when he’d had the Mark of Cain, but those days were long gone.

“Like you could destroy me in a heartbeat if I misstep. And you could, Dean. I told you before: I love you. I know you didn’t take it the way I meant it. But I do, and I’m yours. Say you’re mine.”

Dean felt as though his heart might burst, and desperately wanted to see his lover. "Let me go, Cas. Let me loose.” Dean tugged on his arms, and they came free abruptly. He pushed himself upright, only to realise Cas was no longer touching him. In fact, as he turned, Cas was across the room, a stoic expression on his face and both their clothes back in place. Cas’ expression was entirely ruined by red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes, though. “Cas, you idiot. I wanted to look you in the eye when I said it back. I love you, angel. You’re mine.”

There was a tense moment when he thought he spoke too late, that Cas wouldn’t listen, but then the angel was in his arms, shuddering and quaking, the fever gripping them both sparking a maelstrom of heat. Each touch was like lightning, searing itself onto Dean’s mind, and he tugged at Cas’ clothes again. They kissed desperately, their tongues tangling. And with a snap of Cas’ fingers, their clothes vanished. Dean groaned softly, falling against his lover, his angel, the touch of his skin against his own burning like a brand, and without warning, he leapt up into Cas’ arms, wrapping his legs around his Alpha. 

“Mmph!” Cas’ sound of startlement was muffled by their lips, but he caught Dean without hesitation, as though Dean were no more than a feather, and  _ damn _ if that wasn’t hot. Dean broke the kiss with a desperate moan.

“Need you, Alpha-mine. Not gonna be able to hold back, I need you so much, my heat…”

“I know, Dean, I’ve got you. It’s why I brought you here.”

Dean glanced around again from the refuge of his angel’s arms and grinned wickedly. “I like the bed. I want to see you splayed out on it. Want you to knot me,” he leaned in for another kiss, “claim me,” and another, “breed me up.” 

Cas groaned against his lips, his hands clenching on Dean’s thighs. Dean let out a soft whine as Cas turned and moved with him held in the air, Cas’ thick thighs moving between his legs powerfully. And oh, what a thought that was. Cas’ long, slender fingers were cupping his legs, and Dean moaned as he felt them shift, moving closer to his sopping hole.

“Touch me, Cas,” he begged as Cas climbed onto the bed, still supporting his weight as though it were nothing. His angel sat back on his haunches then and lifted Dean higher. Dean grabbed at Cas for balance, and Cas knee-walked forward so he could hold onto the headboard behind him, a beautiful, carved wooden thing. As soon as Dean reached for it, Cas gave a low chuckle.

"Hang on, Dean." 

Cas moved Dean's hips, shifting him around easily, and Dean whined as he realised what his angel was doing. His legs were wrapped around Cas' shoulders, and with one hand under his ass and the other supporting his back, Cas went to town. He bent his neck and swallowed Dean's cock down, his head bobbing and tongue working the length as though he'd done this a million times rather than being the virgin Dean knew he was. He sucked on Dean's cock with all the intensity he possessed, and Dean's arms shook under the strain of holding his weight. One of Cas' fingers traced lightly over his furled pucker, and his arms gave out. They folded under him as Cas' tongue flicked against his frenulum before swirling around the head. Though Dean expected to wobble, he found himself supported instead by a buzzing power that tingled over his skin. Cas' grace enveloped him and tipped him over the edge, and he came suddenly, crying out loudly, spilling over into Cas' mouth. Slick poured from his hole and ran down Cas' wrist as he supported Dean's weight effortlessly. 

Cas laid him out on the bed and bent to kiss him again, softly… slowly. Dean's mind was still floating from his orgasm, and he responded lazily, his muscles lax. The mood between them shifted again, tender and languid as Cas stretched out next to Dean and pulled him onto his side to face him. 

Cas ran a gentle hand down Dean’s flank, then back up his stomach and chest, pausing to stroke lightly over a nipple. Dean whined against his lover’s lips, arching into his touch. He could feel himself dripping onto the quilt, and rubbed his thighs together just for the feel of slick between them. His foot brushed against Cas’ as he moved, and he trailed the arch of his foot up Cas’ calf to his knee, hooking it with his ankle to tug him closer. Cas’ leg slotted between his, and they both groaned softly at the contact, even as Dean wormed closer to press together tightly. His arms wrapped around Cas’ waist and worked over the strong muscles of his back, and Cas moaned as he stroked his fingers over his shoulder blades.

“Sensitive?” Dean quietly asked, a small smile on his face as he began to gently massage the tight muscles even as he kissed over Cas’ throat.

“Dean, my--oh  _ fuck!  _ My wings!” Cas groaned out, and suddenly there was a great buffet of wind in the cabin as Cas’ wings materialized.

Dean’s mouth dropped open in shock at the sight of the incredible ebony feathers. They weren’t just black though. They shimmered in the sunlight, purples and blues glinting along the pinions, and Dean was overwhelmed, awe-struck. How could this glorious being want  _ him? _

As though he could understand Dean’s thoughts, and maybe he could, Cas turned a familiar, tender expression on him. Cas’ wing tucked around his body, pulling him close, and Cas murmured his name softly.

“Dean, I will always choose you.”

“Cas, I--” Cas interrupted him with a slow, deep kiss, and Dean melted. 

They kissed softly for what felt like hours until Dean’s lips were swollen and tender against his angel’s; until he felt abraded by Cas’ perpetual five o’clock shadow. All the while, Dean’s temperature climbed, and his desperation grew until he rolled onto his back and pulled Cas over him.

“Cas, I love you. But right now, I  _ need _ you. C’mon, help me out here,” he complained, rolling his hips up against his Alpha’s and pulling a moan from his lips.

“I’ll be gentle,” Cas promised, and Dean felt a wicked, sultry smile curve his lips.

“Please don’t.”

Cas met his gaze in surprise and let out a low, rumbling laugh that hit Dean like a punch to the gut. Arousal curled in his body, and he rolled his hips again, stroking his fingers lightly through Cas’ feathers. He watched as those ocean-blue eyes darkened, shuttered by heavy lids, then Cas was kissing him deeply, driving his tongue between his lips and laying claim. Dean’s hands clenched at the onslaught, and Cas moaned, driving his hips against Dean for the first time. His cock was a burning hot length against his own, and Dean whimpered, desperate and wanton. He tugged lightly on Cas’ feathers, then dug deeper as Cas cursed, biting at his lower lip.

“Tell me if I’m too rough,” he teased, knowing there was no way he could damage his angelic lover, and Cas gave a wide, gummy grin. A moment later, he cried out, his hands clutching at Dean’s shoulder and hip as Dean gripped some of his larger feathers and pulled hard. Burrowing his hands deeper in Cas’ feathers, he followed his instincts and nibbled on Cas’ throat. Cas tilted his head back even as his hands roamed up and down Dean’s sides, and they began to rock together slowly.

Dean buried his face against Cas’ throat, pulling in his scent, the rich molasses of arousal growing thicker in his nostrils and on his tongue. He heard Cas hiss as his canines scraped over his scent gland, and Dean chuckled softly. As his fingers explored Cas’ wings, a new scent, like fresh rain, began to build. He glanced toward the windows, but as his questing fingers moved, he encountered a small bump below one of Cas’ wings. Something that definitely hadn’t been there before his wings appeared, and given the way Cas whined and drove his hips against Dean’s suddenly, he gathered it was sensitive.

“Fuck, Dean!” Cas swore, and that was still a rare enough occurrence to merit notice. 

“Like that, Alpha?” Dean teased, and Cas growled, turning his head to nip at Dean’s throat. He kissed his way along Dean’s jaw until their lips met, and suddenly Cas was kissing Dean within an inch of his life. Startled, his fingers twitched over the small bump, and Cas whined again.

Dean moved his fingers again, slowly. Cas shivered. He did it again, a little harder. Cas’ hips twitched against his own, distracting him for a moment. They kissed for several more minutes, moving leisurely against each other. Then Dean’s other hand found a second nub. Curious now, he withdrew his hand and licked his fingers, watching as Cas’ gaze darkened. His hand deliberately sought out the small bump this time, stroking over it firmly, and Cas groaned, driving his hips against Dean sharply. Dean moaned in response, canting his hips up to meet Cas’, and then they were thrusting against each other faster, suddenly impatient with the slow pace.

Dean continued to play with the small nubs, teasing them with light touches followed by firmer, when he realised that his fingers were growing damp. Little by little, a slick, oily substance was leaking from beneath Cas’ wings, and even more curious now, Dean rolled one of the nubs between his thumb and forefinger. A small spurt of warm liquid soaked his fingers, and Cas grunted, thrusting his hips faster. Dean repeated the motion, careful and slow, exploring his lover’s body, and the wetness spread.

“Cas?” he murmured against his lips, “what is that?”

Cas pulled back to stare down at him, his eyes wild, his cheeks flushed and hot. 

“Wing oil. For grooming,” he answered, his voice raw, then bent and nipped at Dean’s lower lip again. “And for mating.”

Dean pulled his hand away and looked at his fingers. Sensing Cas’ trepidation at his withdrawal, he gave a slow, lazy smirk. “So if I were to do this…” And he licked his fingers, lapping away the oil, and Cas dropped to press their bodies together again, moaning against his mouth as they kissed again. Cas groaned as he drove his tongue past Dean’s lips as though chasing the flavour on his tongue, and Dean swore to himself then and there that he’d have his mouth on those nubs sooner rather than later.

Cas stroked a hand down Dean’s side to his thigh and kneaded at his leg, then as Dean shifted beneath him, fell between Dean’s spread legs. 

They both froze. 

Dean broke first.

“Cas, please!” Without another word, Cas dragged Dean’s leg up by a hand behind his knee, wrapping it around his hips. Dean moaned as Cas settled against him, the thick, heavy weight of his cock nestling finally between his cheeks. 

Cas rolled his hips, his shaft sliding through the slick dripping from Dean’s entrance, and Dean whined at the incredible sensation. Cas gave a low chuckle and did it again and again, until he was sliding freely between Dean’s cheeks. Dean, impatient now, hauled his other leg up around Cas’ waist and drove his hands back into Cas’ wings, pinching at the oil glands sharply. Cas grunted as they spurted over Dean’s fingers, his hips driving sharply against him even as Dean canted his hips. There was a brief moment when the head of his cock caught on Dean’s entrance, and then he was sliding past. 

“Cas, I need you, no more teasing!” Dean begged, his voice gone hoarse with arousal, his throat parched from panting. He ground down against his lover, whining softly, and reached down to wrap his hand around Cas’ cock. Or try to. To say the Alpha was well-endowed was an understatement of epic proportions. He was going to wreck Dean.

He couldn’t wait.

Cas moaned against his throat as Dean’s hand closed around him, and he thrust into the heat of Dean’s hand. Shushing his lover, Dean tilted his hips and guided Cas to his entrance. There was a moment of bated breath as their eyes met, Cas’ fathomless blue so full of love that Dean thought he was having another heart attack. Cas gently laid his forehead against Dean’s, then he was slowly, achingly, pressing past his rim. Dean’s hands dropped to Cas’ hips, stopping him quickly, and Cas froze.

“Did I hurt you?” Cas asked worriedly, starting to pull back, making Dean whimper at the drag.

“Don’t move!” he whined. Panting for breath for a few moments, he laid a hand alongside Cas’ cheek. “Feels too good, I almost blew my load like a kid on prom night.”

Cas let out a low chuckle. Nuzzling at Dean’s palm, he kissed it softly again and again until Dean was squirming underneath him, his hand tugging at Cas’ hips.

“Are you ready, Dean? I’d hate to move… prematurely,” Cas teased softly, and Dean let out a huff of laughter.

“You’re sassy, my Alpha. I like it.”

“And here I was aiming for cocky,” Cas retorted drily. Even as Dean stared up at his lover in disbelief over the dick joke, Cas was pressing slowly into his body. Heat flared under Dean’s skin, his temperature sky-rocketing, and a gush of slick flooded the quilt beneath them.

“Enough foreplay, sweetheart. Need you!” Dean moaned, rolling his hips sharply as his nails raked down Cas’ spine. Cas cried out at the edge of pain, his hips snapping forward, driving him to the hilt into Dean’s hole. 

Heaven. He was dead, and this was Heaven. Dean moaned unabashedly as his lover filled him, the delicious stretch driving him to distraction, even as he rolled his hips to take him deeper. Then the slow drag as Cas pulled out, sweat dripping from his brow. 

“Is this okay?” Cas asked, tendons standing out on his neck as he kept to a slow, steady drag. Dean shifted underneath him, desperate for more, his heat demanding more.

“Cas, I won’t break, please, need more, need it harder, faster!” Dean begged, and Cas’ nostrils flared as Dean’s scent erupted around them, his heat spiking to new heights.

Cas’ hips snapped into his sharply, pistoning against him again and again, dragging the head of his cock over Dean’s prostate repeatedly. Dean could barely speak, a litany of  _ more _ and  _ fuck _ and  _ Cas _ escaping his lips even as the angel sped up. Even that was beyond him when Cas dropped to nip at his throat, his canines dragging over his scent gland and making him whine, desperate for the touch of his lover’s teeth in earnest.

“Claim me, knot me,” he pleaded, whimpering as his hands buried themselves again in Cas’ wings, using their strength for leverage to rock up to meet his angel’s thrusts. 

Cas seemed able to judge within a hair how much Dean could take without hurting him, and while he never crossed the line, he danced it until Dean was near sobbing for release.

“So tight for me, Omega-mine!” Cas muttered against his ear, his body moving in a sinful, sinuous wave that brushed the head of his cock over Dean's sweet spot continuously. Dean's hands roamed from his wings down Cas' back, to his ass, and there was a spike in the molasses scent in the air as Cas groaned. Dean kneaded the perfect, round globes, pulling Cas harder and grinding his hips in a circle. "Dea-- _ Dean! _ I'm not going to last, love!" Cas gasped, and Dean felt his heart clench at the endearment. The arousal building in his core had reached a raging inferno, tendrils of heat flicking out to his extremities like bolts of lightning, and he moaned his encouragement to his angel.

"Cas, bite me!"

Cas groaned, his hips starting to stutter in their rhythm. Keening out Cas’ name, Dean’s hands pulled on his Alpha’s feathers as his orgasm overwhelmed him. Ropes of white painted his stomach and chest, and Cas’ teeth pierced his scent gland, pulling another spurt from his cock. Clutching at Cas’ shoulders, Dean mouthed over his scent-gland, sucking on it and feeling it plump under his lips, until Cas was letting out a desperate series of exhalations, his voice higher than usual as he approached his own orgasm.

His knot was swelling against Dean’s rim, the burn unbelievable as he worked it in and out of Dean’s body once, twice; then on the third time, shoved all the way home as it expanded completely, locking them together as the heat of Cas’ orgasm flooded into Dean’s depths. A heartbeat later, Dean bit down sharply on the angel’s scent-gland, cementing their bond and claiming him in return. Pleasure flooded Dean in another incredible wave, and his cock gave a feeble twitch, leaking again as he clenched hard around the knot filling him so perfectly. 

They lay together in silence for a time with only the slowing cadence of their breath filling the room.

“Dean, did you mean it?” Cas asked softly when he finally broke the quiet between them. 

“If I said it, I meant it. Which part?” Dean replied, wracking his memory, his thoughts still fuzzy from his heat and the mind-blowing pleasure still riding him.

“You asked me to breed you,” Cas reminded him.

Dean startled, not having really thought about it, but realising that yeah, he meant it. He told his angel so and felt him slump in what could only be relief.

“You trying to tell me something, angel-face?” Dean teased.

“Do you really think you could be knotted and claimed by a Seraph during his rut, during your heat, and  _ not _ end up with a pup?”

Dean froze. “Well, that didn’t occur to me.”

“He’ll be a Nephil,” Cas whispered, nuzzling at Dean’s throat, kissing him softly as Dean sought out his lips.

“He…?” Dean asked softly, tears welling in his eyes.

“I can dream.”

“So can I, Alpha-mine.” Dean snuggled into Cas’ arms, waiting for his lover’s knot to go down. “Where the hell are we, anyway?”

“Ireland.”

“Huh," Dean replied, snuggling closer as Cas rolled onto his side and pulled Dean over so he wouldn't be crushed by his lover's weight. Cas' obsidian wings wrapped around Dean like a blanket, and he purred softly at their warmth. He was near dozing when an urgent thought flashed through his mind. "Wait, what did you do with Baby?!”

Cas rolled his eyes. "With Sam, and a note on the dash." His blue eyes narrowed then, and he pulled Dean closer possessively. "Aren't you glad that waitress didn't take you up on your innuendo?"

Dean chuckled softly, running his fingers through the magnificent black wings. "If I ever can't touch myself, I know who to ask." Cas grumbled against his hair, but a soft smile was curving his lips, and he looked at Dean adoringly. "You're the one that I want. The one I need."

Cas' brow furrowed. "Did you just quote a musical at me?"

_ Fucking Metatron, _ Dean sighed, feeling his ears burn at being caught using a line from Grease, of all things. As a distraction, he leaned in to kiss his angel senseless. When they broke apart again, Cas gave him a teasing smile and murmured softly.

"I've got chills, they're multiplying…"

"Hey, I am  _ not _ Olivia Newton-John!"

**Author's Note:**

> Love Destiel? Over 18? Join us on Discord's [ Profound Bond](https://discord.gg/rUFErcY) server for like-minded chats, friendly people, and inspiration for reading and writing!


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